D is For
by BleedingThornsOfARedRose
Summary: They are desperate, deluded, and despairing, among other things. Facing the truths of growing up, a tale of bitter regrets, sudden realisations, letting go, and moving on. Set of six drabbles from each character's PoV per chapter.
1. D:8

_Author's Note: _I apologise if this makes little to no sense, as it was hastily written lest I forget what I intended to write. It was also written with a severe lack of sleep. A little background on the idea: although I didn't manage to work this in to the actual drabbles, the idea for this came while I was watching the last episode of season seven. The letter on Jackie's hotel room in 'D'. And it came to me. (The "D is for death"). Anyways, if anyone wants a continuation (using other letters, throughout the series) please review and let me know and I'll try. As of right now, this is a standalone chapter, set during the end of season seven and season eight. Enjoy!

* * *

D is for Donna. She's the only thing Eric thinks of as he sits on the long flight to Africa. He thinks of her smile, her eyes, her kiss. He thinks about the strength she gives him. He remembers her red hair framing her face in soft curls as they made love for the first time. (It really was making love, he thinks, even though it has always been called "doing it" and he secretly likes her red hair better.) He doesn't even have to close his eyes to feel her skin on his; the memory is more vivid and tangible than the seat in front of him. He can hear her whisper "I love you." He receives a strange look from the man next to him when he softly returns the sentiment out loud.

He forgets she's not here.

She's always been there. He cannot begin to describe the intense feeling of loneliness eating him up. She won't be with him for the next year. He won't see her face or hold her close at night.

He chokes back the tears.

Donna is the reason he's leaving. Donna is the reason he stays despite the conditions and the hopeless helplessness he constantly feels.

But most of all, Donna is the reason he comes home.

* * *

D is for disaster. Jackie could hardly believe her eyes. Some bleach blonde trash had married her boyfriend. All because she didn't trust him enough to believe he loved her, the handful of times he said it. All because she'd run off and sought comfort in her idiotic ex, who had incredibly horrible timing.

Her entire relationship with Steven was a disaster, she realises. They loved each other, she had no doubts now, even if she's been so quickly replaced. But in the end, their insecurities and differences tore them apart.

She hates disasters. But she chooses to not let it get her down. Going to the bar didn't help, but she didn't think it would. What she needed now was...

Steven's arms around her.

She laughs derisively to herself.

This would make her stronger. She'd make sure of that.

* * *

D is for delusion. Kelso thinks about Jackie as he drives to Chicago. He once believed she loved him so much she would never leave him, no matter how many girls he cheated on her with or how many times he screwed up. But he realises now that she may still love him but not the way she once did. She might have not tried to get back together with Hyde then. She might have accepted his marriage proposal.

But he sees the truth as he drives down the highway in the afternoon sun with only the radio for company. He does not love her. He has not loved her for a long time, if he ever truly did. His proposal had been a last attempt to hold on to the past. They were growing up and moving on and he didn't like it at all. He had to let go of that delusion.

One wish he has is that he'd understood that before he tried to do it with Jackie in a Chicago hotel room. His ex-girlfriend was miserable and his best friend—well, Kelso wasn't certain, but he somehow doubted Hyde was happy, and he knew he had a part to play.

But his biggest wish of all? That they could rewind time and all of them can be happy again.

* * *

D is for disjointed. It's been two months since the Chicago incident and a month since Sam had shown up. He feels off balance, like a table with a wobbly leg. Something feels as though he'd been broken apart and glued back together with a couple of pieces missing.

Of course, that's how he'd felt a majority of his life, so he never thought much of it. Until tonight. Alone in his bed, waiting for his wife—dear Lord, the word had never made him so sick before—wondering and regretting. He begins to think it is worse now and knows without question that a certain delectable brunette is the cause.

Forcing back the tears (when was the last time he cried? he always longs to cry now) he suddenly becomes acutely aware of the powerful hold Jackie had over him. He berates himself for letting her go then forces himself to accept his choice.

It doesn't change anything. It doesn't turn back time so he could change his actions. All it really does it make it unbearable.

Because he always thought of himself as a wise man, but now, with Kelso gone, he's the village idiot...town dumbass, if he listened to Red.

But listening to Red is finding about the bitter truth, and he's afraid of what he might find when that happens. So he laughs mockingly at himself as he wishes and downs another beer.

* * *

D is for depression. Donna is cold inside and inconsolable. She had thought Eric loved her no matter what, through thick and thin, with all her faults.

Deep down, she still believes that. But the break up letter—a letter, that's all she got from the inconsiderate bastard—was imprinted in her brain. She remembered it word for word, remembered every curve of every letter. It haunted her dreams, it tortured her days. She couldn't believe her Eric was leaving her.

She thinks about as she tosses and turns, wanting and not wanting to sleep. He broke up with her again. Does she really need him more than he needed her? The thought of breaking up never crossed her mind at any point in their relationship. He always left her. Like now.

Her temper flares. He gave her a promise ring! He wanted her to see him in her future. He proposed! He...

He walked out.

The tears are her only solace as they fall. They, however slightly, relieve the tension in her heart and body. She hopes that she was not completely disillusioned.

She prays that one day she will understand why growing up hurts so damn much.

* * *

D is for desperation. Fez silently fumes at Randy and Samantha. They do not belong here. They won't ever. This is a place for six friends who have nothing and everything in common. Outsiders must earn a place.

These two were just accepted in without question.

He understands that they are trying futilely to fill a gap. But it does nothing. Randy and Donna cannot replace Donna and Eric. The stripper and the burnout cannot replace the cheerleader and the burnout. Sam's density cannot replace Kelso's silliness.

Fez desperately wants everyone to resemble happy again and believes that it will one day happen. He holds onto that hope foolishly, he knows, but he's learned one thing in the past years.

A fool's hope is better than no hope.

* * *

D is for death. Something died in them all the day they began to part ways. Hope, faith, the promise of tomorrow.

But, still, there is something buried in their very cores that will someday bring them together. It's a love that cannot be shattered entirely or ever erased. A love that leads them back their heart's true home where they can overcome the hurdles of life. It's their destiny.

After all, home is where the heart is.


	2. H:8

Author's Note: Not my favourite chapter or words. I'm going to try to update this once or twice a week, on no specific day. If anyone has any word suggestions or ideas for what the characters are thinking, feel free to suggest away. I'm not sure this chapter completely flows.

This chapter is also set in season eight.

* * *

H is for hell. It's where Hyde has been since the moment he was born. Living with Edna and Bud and their drinking and their sluts. Men with nothing to go home to because no self-respecting woman would want anything to do with them. Women who were in no way self-respecting and potentially had something to prove by getting drunk and hooking up with random men.

The memories were very hazy now, but he remembered the moans. They were the screams of all sluts. Most annoyingly, they were the ones he heard, sharp and piercing, as he pounded angrily into Samantha.

He wondered vaguely how many men have done this to her before. Then he wonders if he should really be thinking during sex, but he's not enjoying himself.

Two years ago banging some slut would have been one of life's simple pleasures. He looked forward to it, actually. He doesn't have to wonder why it's not anymore.

He realises in this moment that he's as bad as his father, if not worse.

Because he knows that he's the only one he can blame for his misery.

* * *

H is for heartache. Donna wonders why being with Randy is like being with Kasey Kelso. Then, as she sits in Grooves and watches Randy and Hyde, it dawns on her—she never loved either of them. They were just something to pass the time, silly schoolgirl crushes. Eric has been her world so long and she doesn't have the strength to move on from something so real. Not without knowing why, at the very least, he chose to go.

She recalls Jackie once saying that she could do better than Eric, and for a second, she thinks that's true. But the thought quickly fades and she berates herself for being unfair. She did not know the whole truth, but she does know that Eric might still love her. After all, his letter did state it was for her sake.

But somehow, that's not all that reassuring. It makes her feel worse because he's doing something for her, for them, and she's mentally condemning him to all levels of hell. She once heard someone say that anger is a secondary response, typically to hurt or fear.

She held onto to that so she could assuage her tortured mind.

At least she knew that the heartache would eventually fade.

* * *

H is for happiness. Well, whatever happiness he can still find. It's warmer here with Brooke and Betsy than it was in the Forman basement when he left. Betsy's little giggles fill the room so often, and Brooke is always smiling proudly. Even her mother is part of his family now.

Kelso feels like he's betraying his own family in a way. His parents and siblings have only seen Betsy once and have never met Brooke. The gang—an extension of his family and probably a closer family than his own—have seen his daughter only twice. He wonders if Jackie and Hyde ever think about their god-daughter.

But thinking of that leads to thinking of Eric and Donna and Fez and Mrs. Forman. Of Bob and even Red. He frowns as he gently wipes the blended food from around Betsy's mouth. He has a hard time categorising them all—are they friends or family? They seem to be his entire world. And he's left them behind.

He's not the only one, he knows. Growing up made them grow apart.

Yet, he's not as dumb and childish as everyone says he is. He understands that life weighs you down, so for now, he decides to find some happiness here before going back home to create some happiness there.

* * *

H is for harmony. Fez searches for it every day of his life. But these past few months have upset the little tranquillity he's found in the stormy basement. He knows his friends do not know how to do anything with a little drama added in, but lately, it's been unbearable. His only consolation is that Sam is gone. If only Randy is driven out soon, then maybe they can better work towards their previous equilibrium.

Donna breaks up with Randy. Their happily ever after has travelled in the right direction. Then Jackie kisses him. Wants to date him. He thinks of Hyde and his subtle attempts to stop it.

He knows he is now the one taking them a step back. But he wants her, and their good spirits will take much more mending than he originally thought, so he allows himself the pleasure of dating her. Perhaps he will ruin them more than they already have ruined themselves. Perhaps he will force them to take some action. Perhaps they will begin to realise they need peace of mind.

For now, he'll take his chances.

* * *

H is for hero. He was her hero, but Jackie still clutches onto the pain of Steven's choice. He was the one who always told her she was loveable, even when he screwed up. It wasn't her, he murmured one night, uncharacteristically sweet. It was him. It was Michael. It was Chip. No could see how beautiful she was inside. He made all the bad go away.

She spends her nights analysing everything he did and said. No new conclusions come. No epiphanies strike. She believes that he once loved her, but it was over now. The love was long gone. She was holding on to something she needed to let go.

The list was a silly idea. So what if it matched Fez? If she went out and explored the world, she could probably find another hundred men it fit. But Fez did make her feel good about herself. He worshipped her, called her his goddess, put her on such a high pedestal.

She wondered how far the fall would be. She was not perfect. Michael had not accepted that. Fez may not. Steven did though. He may have found her annoying sometimes but it didn't push him away.

She remembers Fez's kiss at the theatre. It had been the best kiss of her life...until one Veteran's Day. She sighs and she realises she can't go back to that night, or any other night, and change her actions. So she smiles and kisses Fez, amused by his gesture and sweet words, and thanks the heavens that he's still a good kisser.

But that night, she dreams of a silent hero and knows it can never be him.

* * *

H is for hazy. His memories are vague and his recollection of his friends blurry. What colour was Hyde's hair? Jackie's eyes? How dark was Fez in comparison to them? Did Kelso have long or short hair? Red—was he greying now? His mother's hair was curly, right? Were there five or six seats in basement?

Eric tried to drag up the images of his life as he clutched the arms of the chair as the plane took off. Stupid him, underestimating the time it took to get to the airport. He couldn't wait to get back to Point Place. He could have been halfway there by now. He could be seeing Donna.

Now there's something he remembers clearly. Every curve of her body, every strand of her hair. The sweet sound of her voice, the feel of her lips. The way her skin felt warm underneath his palms as he caressed her. He could never forget anything about her.

Would she forgive him? Take him back? Or was he destined to spend his life dreaming of her so sharply burned into his brain?

He had to believe she would forgive him, that she would see it was for them that he did this.

If he didn't hold onto that, he might never gain to the courage to go home.

* * *

Home. It's a simple word that can mean so many different things. But to six teenagers there is only one definition for home—there in the Forman's basement with each other.


	3. A:3

Author's Note: This is set in season three. No particular part, although it's really referencing the end more than anything. This isn't my favourite chapter, but I had the idea for three out of the six. There is no seventh drabble in this one. I couldn't think of one that wouldn't be too repetitive. This may be a recurring pattern.

* * *

A is for annoying. Jackie's voice once grated his nerves. It still sounds the same, but Hyde can't make himself mind it so much. It hasn't been the same since their date. He still mocks and teases, but something off about it. And that annoys him much more than her voice once did. Why did he feel this?

He could hardly believe he was letting another person get under his skin. She smiles and he wants to smile with her, she frowns and he wants to know why she's upset. But worse than that, he wants to fix it. He wonders when he began to enjoy being her knight in shining armour and pinpoints right at the moment she begins to babble in front of the cop about how they will never be friends because she loves him.

So what if it's annoying? What if it's not really love? Who cares? Because it's been awhile since he heard those words.

* * *

A is for apathy. Stupid Steven, Jackie thinks, and his Zen. She hates his mask of indifference and spends the time she should spend doing her homework plotting up ways to get him to drop it. Maybe that's why she takes Michael back, she muses, because he does care, and she can tell. He won't be Steven to her, but right now, she can't recall why she enjoyed his apathetic face and cool company so much.

Michael is her soul mate—beautiful, always willing to make her happy. For a moment, the thought of all those romance books she spends all her time reading flicks across her mind. Everything is different for those characters, but then again, all they are is fictional. She's real, and perhaps her love is more real than theirs.

She wrinkles her nose as she catches sight of all the "Steven Hyde" and "Mrs. Steven Hyde" and various other similar scribbles on a page in her notebook. His picture is there too—one from the yearbook, does he ever take those glasses off?—and she tears it out.

The closest she came to breaking his Zen, she thinks, is when he said that their date was no worse than bowling. His voice was softer, more human.

She sighs and rips the page out completely, leaning over the side of her bed to reach the trash.

She doesn't understand how it somehow ends up between the pages of her diary.

* * *

A is for always. Eric wondered why he was so different from other teenage boys. 'Forever' did not make him feel uncomfortable. Marriage didn't bring up images of shackles and balls and chains. Especially forever with Donna.

He cannot believe it, but the more he twists the idea around in his head, the more he realises he craves it. Forever with Donna. The rest of their lives together and happy. He can't imagine loving anyone more than he loves her. She is his world, his joy and his pain. He wakes up every morning for her. His whole existence seems to revolve around her.

He never once thinks she may not feel the same.

* * *

A is for alone. Eric is off with Donna; Kelso is trying to get Jackie back. Hyde is off doing something. Fez sits in the basement, with only himself for company. Usually, he would enjoy being alone, so he could take care of his needs, but today, even that cannot fill the emptiness.

He had enjoyed Caroline's company while it lasted. It was sad, because he really liked her, but he knew he made the right decision for the long run. She was insane. He might do or say something that sets her off and get killed. Or get someone killed. Maybe she'd kill herself. He didn't want to be the one to blame if that happened.

So he sits, alone and desperate, and dreams of a faceless girl.

* * *

A is for appreciation. Kelso realises that he never truly appreciated Jackie when he had her. After losing her, after months of chasing her, after watching he chase after his best friend, he knows that he must treat her better now that she gave him another chance.

He loved her. The only consolation he had had this past year was that she was still around. Being friends with her was nice and all, but it wasn't the same. He needed her around, no matter bossy and bitchy she was.

Damn it, he couldn't get it up without her. How was he supposed go on without her? He loves her. And he agrees with Hyde, he needs to be honest with her. There were so many things he lied about.

It doesn't cross his mind to question the reasons for his or Hyde's actions.

* * *

A is for afraid. Donna has never truly feared anything in her young life, but after Eric's comment about her staying home with the babies, she feared her future. She did not wish to be a baby machine. She wanted a career. A journalist maybe, or a writer. She wanted to explore. Would Eric hold her back? She never believed he would.

When he handed her the promise ring, she didn't believe it meant anything outside of the promise she loved him. She almost had a panic attack when Jackie told her what she really promised. Weren't they a little too young to be thinking of forever? They weren't even done with high school yet! Did it matter yet if she saw him in her future?

She was afraid of what would happen, and she couldn't help but think she had every right to be. She nearly died when Eric broke up with her.

It wouldn't be until several years later that she realises all he wanted was to know if she thought they might last.


	4. F:4

Author's Note: Okay, I have no excuse for this being late. I'm just lazy. The ideas in this chapter are probably overused (Jackie cheating, Eric and Donna's breakup) but season 4 isn't exactly my favourite. The next one will probably be set in season five.

* * *

F is for femme fatale. Donna had always been seductive in a subtle way that Eric loved, but it seems that has tripled since he broke up with her. Maybe that old saying about wanting something you couldn't have was true.

Of course he could have had her, had he not been a complete dumbass, had he apologised, had he thought before acting. But that was all in the past. Donna no longer felt the same way. He, on the other hand, sat pining after her while Casey Kelso got to kiss her.

Hitting himself over the head—figuratively, Donna was here, although that would change once he was alone—he made some quip at Kelso, hating him in that moment just for being Casey's brother. It was unfair really, but love had shaded his reasoning, and jealousy had blinded it.

If he could stick his foot up his own ass, he would right now.

* * *

F is for Forman. Hyde will never say it aloud, but sometimes simply being around his best friend makes him feel better. It's one of the most natural things in the world to Hyde, spending time with Eric. For some reason, it's always home to him.

He supposes that's really because the Forman house is home, and not even his dad could change that. Red and Kitty were real parents_, _not some irresponsible idiot who knocked up a woman and only stuck around because it was the right thing to do. Parents tended to make everything feel like home.

Eric is his brother in every way but biologically, but that didn't matter anyway, since blood relations were apparently not that strong. Even Laurie is now practically his sister. He doesn't want to see her hurt, would probably defend her if necessary, no matter how much he teased her. (He likes to think she'd do the same for him, but he doubts it wholeheartedly. Luckily, it's never come to that for either of them).

He's glad they took him back in without question, because he had no place to go besides here. He thinks about going to the Fotohut or Leo's house, places where he could get high without fear of being caught. No rules, just fun. He would have loved that at one point.

But somehow, it's just not as good.

* * *

F is for fairytale. Big Rhonda may not exactly be a princess, but then again, he is not exactly a prince. He has a girlfriend though, a chance to do it, something. He isn't alone now.

It gives Fez something to do when he needs to get away from his friends. It's not the same with Eric and Donna broken up. Jackie and Kelso are fighting more, too, and Hyde remains Hyde—stoic and aloof.

Fez doesn't mind Rhonda at all. She's pretty, even if she's a bit big, and she's willing to date him. It's something he's been dreaming of since Crazy Caroline turned out to be...well, crazy.

Who wouldn't take this chance?

* * *

F is for fool. Jackie is a complete fool to think Michael's attention would always be on her. She wonders if she'd always be second best to cartoons and anything that has people admiring his looks. How could he forget to pick her _three_ times? Once, she understood. Twice, maybe. Three times? That was unforgivable. And running late because of some stupid futuristic cartoon? Ridiculous. Stealing her dream? Cruel.

And when she asked if she was prettier than all those girls, he kept asking her to clarify, as if she wasn't the most beautiful creature in the world.

Of course... It's Michael, after all. He never had been mature. Plastic dinosaurs and rubber chickens as gifts instead of anything remotely sweet or romantic. He's a eighteen year old with the mentality of a five year old and the raging hormones of a thirteen year old who's just hit puberty.

Fleetingly, Donna's voice telling her all sorts of (possibly) truthful things echoes in her mind. She brushes them off with a toss of her gorgeous hair. One day, Michael would grow up and they would get married and have children and be on their own television show.

They had to be. They were meant to be together.

* * *

F is for first. Eric was her first and Donna thought he would be her last. She'd loved him for several long years now, and she naïvely assumed that they would always be together.

Why did he want to date others? Had he broken up with her because she wasn't enough? Insecurity, fear, and disappointment gripped her. She doesn't want to believe that he had gotten over her so easily and quickly.

Perhaps he wants to make her jealous. Yeah, she thinks, that's it. She brushes more make-up in her face as she waits for Casey to come. Eric just wants to make her run back to him. That's all it is. Seriously, he couldn't get a girlfriend besides her. Most girls wouldn't glance his way until that stupid article came out.

There's a honk outside and Jackie pushes her out the door.

Casey's hotter than he was the last time she saw him.

Oh, well, that would keep her busy for now.

* * *

F is for flawless. Kelso obsesses about himself in the mirror as he wonders why Jackie cheated on him. There's nothing wrong with him! He's so much better looking than that--that--cheese puff! He's even kept his cheating down to a minimum and to secret places.

He examines his bone structure and lips, his eyes and body. He can't find a single flaw. He's a model. Who wouldn't want a model? Jackie couldn't give him up for the cheese guy! (Not that she didn't come back to him...Who wouldn't?)

If he thought about it, though, he'd know he's blowing it entirely out of proportion. When he made out with Pam Macy, she'd broken up with him, but that barely lasted a day. He'd come up to the ski cabin, and everything was fine.

She apologised a million times, genuinely sorry, and he was giving her a hard time.

But, like he told Eric, he has to come down hard on things like this. Just because he wasn't all that sorry half the time he cheated on her didn't mean that she could do it to him. He needs sex and she... well, doesn't.

Something was bugging him though. He doesn't realise it until she gives him the magazines and tells him to take the tests that she's always so discouraging. It's just who he is, but she can't accept that.

He never understands why forever is so important to her.

* * *

AN2: For the record, I'd take Christopher Masterson over Ashton Kutcher. :D


	5. R:5

R is for revenge. Kelso can't believe that Hyde would steal Jackie out from under him. So what if he left? He was going to come back eventually and he and Jackie would have gotten back together—they always did.

Except now. He can't believe she moved on—to Hyde nonetheless! Hyde's his best friend! Besides, didn't they hate each other? Why are they suddenly dating? He hopes this is just a burn. It would take away the sting.

But even after Annette comes by and does her job—he'll be fine without her; she won't sleep with him anyway—Hyde and Jackie still date. They're a _couple_. Who would have thought?

He thinks up other ways to get Jackie back. The sweater—it's a great starting point until Hyde messes it up. He stops to think for a while, wondering how he can outsmart Hyde.

Because the hardest thing to do is to admit you've lost your chance forever.

* * *

R is for reconciliation. Eric is glad that his friends bought him the plane ticket. He knows he's a bit spineless, and he probably wouldn't have done it if they hadn't gotten it for him. Sometimes he's glad his friends are meddlesome. Sure, it's caused more problems that it's solved, but he's back with Donna now, and he really can't care.

He's so happy, he knows he's rushing things. An engagement's a silly idea, considering they broke up over a promise ring, which is considerably less, but it seems that neither can live without each other again since she agrees.

He missed climbing up the side of her house to see her late at night. It's a struggle for him, but after not having done it for so long, he can't bother struggling.

He doesn't care if Bob catches them come morning. It'll be fine with her in his arms.

* * *

R is for rhapsody. Or at least, as rhapsodic as he can be. If anyone said three years ago that Hyde would be happy dating Jackie Burkhart, he would have directed them straight to the mental ward. Even a year ago, when he finally admitted to himself that he liked her, he wouldn't have believed it. They were opposites.

But when she falls into his lap, crying about her father, he thinks they're not so different after all. He still can't see through her façade completely, but he sees for the first time there is one. Broken and hiding, just like he does. They have more in common than they think they do.

He wonders how much he likes her, how long this was going to last. Because he risks losing his best friend. Because he knows there will be an end. No matter how similar they are, there will be an end. Happiness doesn't last forever.

Because he spent a summer growing out his beard, and even though he doesn't know if it's really going to cheer her up enough, he shaves it off anyway.

He's becoming whipped, he thinks as he stares at himself in the mirror. He has to stop this. He won't become Kelso. He doesn't need a leash. She can't control him.

But it was worth it, seeing the smile on her face.

* * *

R is for reunited. Donna stares at the engagement ring, elated. She has Eric back.

California had been so boring. Kelso was constantly hitting on random girls, and she hardly got to spend time with her mother. But when Eric came...It was completely true—it was amazing when he was there.

Maybe the year apart gave them some perspective. She knows now she loves Eric more than anything, and she wonders how she was planning to live without him. Casey wasn't Eric, couldn't love her in that sweetly idiotic way Eric does. It's Eric she sees when she closes her eyes.

She's upset when Red tries so hard to tear them apart. Can't he see? But he doesn't...He and Kitty are not Eric and her. She's partially glad that they aren't getting married so soon—fresh out of high school would be kind of silly—but she's glad they are still building a life together.

Because their lives would always be intertwined.

* * *

R is for rhythm. Now that Kelso and Donna are back and Eric and Donna are back together, the pattern to the gang returns. Sure, some things are different—Jackie and Hyde are now together, for one, but Fez can't bring himself to care. (It's easier to watch them, anyway, since Hyde lives in the basement).

The summer was long without the usual laughter of the group. But now that everyone's back, time is passing too quickly for Fez's liking. Before he knows it, both he and Hyde have new jobs, Eric and Donna are engaged, Kelso's enjoying being a man whore again, Jackie and Hyde have their first real fights as a couple, Leo disappears, Jackie's father is in jail, her mother is gone, and she's living with Donna (if only now they'd do what he thought happened at slumber parties...) and he himself gets a girlfriend, loses his virginity, and gets dumped all before their senior year passes.

But still, their topsy-turvy world means a lot to Fez. He thinks a little part of him dies when the police officer tells him his green card is expiring in a week, anyway, so there were no charges. He can't imagine life without any of them—the gang, Mrs. Forman, Bob, Red. They replaced his family. And suddenly, like that, they would be gone. He would leave and hopefully find a way to come back.

He doesn't want to leave. This has been more like home than home was. Leaving is an idea he can't wrap his mind around.

Why must life be so cruel?

* * *

R is for romance. Jackie won't lie—she misses Kelso's willingness to please her and the romantic gestures. Steven isn't the same, he won't buy her things. Granted, he's poor, but he has a job. He can buy her flowers at least. She's his girlfriend after all.

She strokes his newly shaven face and he stays silent, letting her. She feels a little better. It's a sign that he cares, and that's the only thing comforting her right now. He cares—that's what she really needed to know.

Vaguely, she wonders if Michael would have done something like that for her. She doesn't think so. He was always worried about himself.

Just like she was always thinking of herself.

So, she doesn't have romance. So Steven doesn't really get how relationships work. So she doesn't get grand presents and sweet gestures.

She has someone who needs her, however silently, as much as she needs him.

The words 'I love you' pop into her head.

* * *

Reality is them holding on when things fall apart. When changes come, they deal with them as a group...like a family.

* * *

Author's Note: I hate this chapter. :( Oh, well, hopefully I'll think up something more creative. Haven't had a chance. Hope everyone's doing well. Feel free to review.


	6. B:1

Author's Note: A little shorter, but an update nonetheless. Season one.

* * *

B is for battle. Hyde always seems to be battling something. Edna, Jackie, Kelso, life itself. He sometimes wonders how he's still alive. It feels like everyday is a battle.

It's the bitterness that makes him who he is. Edna cares so very little for her son, Jackie drives him nuts on a daily basis, Kelso is a tool he wants to hit, and life is a bitch in general. It seems that the Formans and Donna are the only ones he can be around nowadays. Red and Kitty never change, and even simultaneous crushes on Donna can't change his friendship with Eric enough to make it worse.

Hyde doesn't feel much of anything when Edna leaves. It's not like she cared enough—he was expecting this. Career day was the one day she actually acted a little like a mother, but it was only a beer. It was more than anything she had done in years, but still, it wasn't anything. He can't miss someone who was never there.

All he is is worried about what he's going to do. He could steal food a few weeks, but he would probably get caught eventually. Mrs. Forman would feed him meals if he came over, but being there every meal would arouse suspicion.

Then Eric opens his mouth. Momentarily, he wants to kill his best friend—nobody needed to know about this; he didn't need pity. But he did need help, and that was offered. Pity tended to go hand in hand with help, but he would deal with it. Inwardly, he thought it might have been the best thing anyone had done for him.

Because he's finally part of a family.

* * *

B is for beautiful. What's beautiful? Jackie, Michael, their love. She may as well be floating on cloud nine right now. Sure, Michael may have strayed once—he is a guy, after all—but he came back to her. Who wouldn't? She's beautiful, and they're even more beautiful together.

It's a formula for success.

No matter what, he'll be hers, and she'll be his, and they will live happily ever after. Kids, a mansion. She'll have silk dresses and servants and be so much higher than everyone else—higher than she is now.

That's why she pulls him down on top of her, forgetting all those fantasies about a half open shirt and romantic music and candles and wind and a banner. What really matters is it's _them_, their special first time. Like she told Donna, she wanted it to be really, really special, not just out of her dreams.

Because they're cementing forever.

* * *

B is for brown. Fez is the only brown one at the school and he's mercilessly teased for it. He's glad for Hyde's protection, because sometimes even the jocks are scared of him. And Eric, Donna, and Kelso are also good friends to him, accepting his into their little group. He was an outsider still, but he was there, and they weren't kicking him out.

It was nice to have some friends. When he was flying over, he was worried about being the outcast. His own people didn't exactly accept him—his dreams were bigger than what they could give him, what anyone there had hoped for. How could he make friends in a huge country with everything so different?

Luckily, he found Hyde, who becomes in tutor in so many things. How to get in trouble, how to hide records.

He's accepted.

* * *

B is for bewitched. Her smile, her kiss, her eyes. Eric is thoroughly, utterly spellbound and hopelessly in love with the girl next door. Her kiss atop the Vista Cruiser was a pleasant surprise, the candle a romantic symbol. It takes too long for him to get another kiss, other than that too short when after the disco, again atop the Cruiser, watching an absolutely terrifying movie. But it's better than never for him.

He doesn't want to fight Hyde for her, but he wonders why his best friend likes her. He's never liked a girl before. He entertains the notion that it's just a passing fancy, out of loneliness, boredom, or some other vague emotion, like most of Hyde's are.

But whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Donna kissed Eric, not Hyde, so he's too worried for now.

He's in love—nothing can bother him.

* * *

B is for boogie. Donna's never really liked dance music, especially disco. But something about the magic of the music brought her and Eric closer. True, they never danced together, and she was afraid Hyde would actually kiss her when he said he wanted to, but something happened.

Maybe it was afterwards, in the Forman driveway, laughing along with Eric as they tried to sing Fernando and dance along. It was silly, it was stupid, but it was fun. Just the two of them, goofing off. To the passer-by it wouldn't mean anything, just two teenagers with nothing better to do on their weekend. But to Donna—and to Eric, if she guessed correctly—it was everything.

It was the moment she realised she loved him.

* * *

B is for blessed. Kelso's got good looks and good friends and a hot girlfriend. What more could he ask for? He's got everything. His life is set out for him.

Maybe that's why he doesn't know what to do when Jackie says she wants a house and kids... and maybe a chandelier. Can he give her those things? She's constantly telling him he won't be able to support her. If he can't, why is she asking him for these things?

Forever, she says. They lost their virginities to each other, and now they'll be together forever. He almost keels over at the thought.

Aren't they too young to be dreaming of forever?


	7. LOVE: 2

Author's Note: A little different, and apologies for the delay. Centered around Midge and Bob's wedding.

* * *

L is for love.

-

People describe it as the one thing that keeps the world spinning. For those who have fallen in love before, they see it as the best thing that could ever happen to them. Nothing meant more.

Donna agreed with them. Loving Eric was hands down the greatest thing ever. She had someone to lean on when times were tough, someone to complain to, someone who would hold her.

As she watched her parents exchange the vows she wrote for them, she though only about Eric. How easy it was to get mad at him but also how easy it was to forgive him. How his silly jokes made her laugh no matter how low she was.

If she admitted that Eric was her world, she would be ashamed of herself. She tried to convince herself she didn't _need_ him, she just wanted him around. She was a strong independent woman, she didn't need any man.

She met his eyes.

_I will always love you._

Okay. So maybe she did. Just a little.

--

Eric watched Midge and Bob exchange vows silently. All he could think about was Donna. Would they be married one day? Would they renew their vows? Hopefully, if they did, it would be under better circumstances. Maybe they would renew them on their anniversary. Just so they could act like newly-weds again.

He had such a hard time containing his happiness at the thought. He would never love anyone ever again, not like he loved her. Heart and soul, wholly, forever, for all eternity. He knew, even now, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He didn't even care that they hadn't had sex yet. Of course, he wanted it, but he wanted to lose his virginity to Donna, and he would wait.

Hyde would call him a girl for all the cheesy romantic notions going around his head. But he didn't care. He wanted Donna completely, and he wanted Donna to have him completely. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was girly, maybe it was better kept in one of those romance novels his mother read, but damn it, he wanted it.

He met her eyes.

_I will always love you._

And God help him, he would have it.

* * *

Hyde couldn't deal with it. All these people smiling, like Midge and Bob were actually going to be happy. The couple themselves thinking all their problems were far behind them. What was wrong with everyone? Couldn't they see that the world was fickle? Things changed all the time, and this would be no different. Happiness always seemed to be just out of reach, unless you were unnaturally lucky. Like Forman and Donna. Like Red and Kitty.

But even they weren't always happy. The world was a cold, miserable place. Hyde knew that more than anyone. People leave, love fades, anguish rules. He doesn't understand why people insist on living in a bubble, trying to keep out things that hurt them no matter how inevitable it was. Somehow, some way, they'll fall so low there's no picking themselves back up.

Whoever said love was the only thing worth living for was obviously on one damn strange acid trip.

But... Watching Midge and Bob smile at each other so lovingly, even after all the fights and insults and the other dates, it's almost enough to make him believe in the power of love.

Almost.

* * *

Jackie smiled happily. Donna's vows were romantic, and she'd always loved weddings. Sure, the colours were tacky and the whole affair rather simple and cheap but it was a wedding. She sat between Laurie and Michael, both of who were watching the exchange with little expression.

No one quite understood her desire to get married. But then they didn't understand how lonely she was at home and how miserable her childhood was. The only one who could've understood was Hyde, and she knew by now that he liked solitude and probably wouldn't get her reasoning either.

She couldn't wait to get married. She and Michael would have the most beautiful children. And their children would grow up in a household filled with riches _and_ love. They would literally have everything.

Jackie got excited just thinking about it. She could practically see her gown, all silk and pearls and diamonds. Expensive. Designer. Maybe even made especially for her. The reception would take place somewhere big where everyone would envy her. _Rolling Stone _would print the story. And of course, she'd be famous by then, so a bunch of famous actors and singers would come. Donny Osmond. ABBA maybe. John Travolta.

And then she'd go on to a happy life.

She sent a sideways glance to Michael. He had his typical big (dumb, she thought sadly) grin plastered on his face. She thought back to just a few weeks ago when he'd set her house on fire.

Her smile turned unhappy.

He'd probably set the wedding reception on fire.

--

Kelso grinned. He was the best looking person in the room. He really wasn't paying attention to the ceremony at all. Weddings scared him a little. Who would want to spend their entire life with just one person?

Of course, Bob probably couldn't get anyone else.

He sent a small glance to his girlfriend next to him. She had made it clear that she wanted to get married. Especially now that they had done it. But why would he want to get married? Being tied down with one woman wasn't appealing. He loved Jackie but he didn't think he could spend the rest of his life listening to her shrill voice.

Laurie he could deal with. She'd probably let him have other girls. Jackie seemed to think that girls could keep their hands off him. They couldn't and it would be selfish of him to ask them too. He had to share—Jackie had to share.

But he did love her, and she was driving him nuts, so he resolved to do something good for her. Some place had to make that stupid unicorn plate.

* * *

Fez watched with a tear in his eye. Standing at the back of the room, he realised how much he wanted that everlasting love. True, losing his virginity was all too important in his teenage years, but a decade from now he would want it all—sex and love.

It was so sweet seeing the way Bob and Midge looked at each other. Love shined in their eyes and their soft words were warm. They'd been through a lot of tough times, but they would be okay. Love worked itself out in the end.

He wondered what it was like to be loved all the time and know it. Did you feel like you were flying? Floating? He wanted to know.

More importantly he wanted to feel it.


	8. E:7

Author's Note: Hahaha, HI! Remember me? Vaguely? Good enough. I'm sorry about the lack of updates on this story. For some reason, it's not coming to be. For example, I've been trying to write this chapter for several months. I think since about three chapters ago. And I'm a little dried up on words. Some suggestions would be helpful and very very welcome.

Anyway, thank you for your patience and reviews and reading. Best wishes! If I don't update before the holidays: Happy Holidays, Happy Winter, Happy School Break. Whatever you celebrate.

* * *

E is for enough. Jackie's had it with Hyde. It feels like he doesn't love her anymore, if he did at all. It seems like everything that passed between them was long gone, and their relationship was just a shadow of what it had once been.

They had no future together. He didn't know if he wanted a life with her. She sobbed into her pillow, the wretched sound echoing in her empty mansion. She gave him all her love, and he never did anything for her. He didn't say he loved her. He didn't buy her anything. He wasn't even looking to grow up.

It's awkward spending time around him. She wants to kiss him, she wants to yell. She wants to hurt him like he hurt her, so callously. Except she can't. Because she's still head over heels in love with him.

Another strangled sob.

She could get over this. Just like she got over Michael.

She needed to find something else to focus on.

* * *

E is for emotion. Should she be happy? Relieved? Sad? Annoyed? So many different emotions were running through Donna she doesn't know what to feel. Part of her hates Eric for leaving her the night before their wedding, but another part of her is relieved. She can explore who she is some more. She dyes her hair blonde. She tries to put their relationship far from her mind. But as she returns everything for wedding, she can't be anything but sad. Eric doesn't seem to want to grow up or do anything with his life other than drink and smoke. He's never given thought to what he wants to do. That should be all she needs to leave him.

She thinks about what Jackie says, about her doing better, about Eric not being able to find anyone but her. Eric thinks so too.

But she thinks of his kisses, the way he holds her at night, the overwhelming happiness she tends to feel when she's with him, and she knows there won't ever be anyone who would love her like he does.

* * *

E is for easy. It's easy loving her, hating her, hurting her. Hyde knows he loves Jackie, knows why he can't say the words, and yet still, he feels the need to make excuses—to himself. But he can hear a voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Red, saying that all they are are excuses.

He still can't believe that Jackie broken up with him, even though it's been a couple of weeks, and Angie is pressuring him to make his feelings clear. She can read him. Forman can read him. Fez and Kelso can read him.

Why can't Jackie then? If everyone else can see so clearly that he loves her, something he wishes he could deny more realistically, then why can't she? Why does she need petty reassurances and words that mean nothing? Why can't she be happy with their relationship the way it is—that easy togetherness?

Why can't she just stop wanting what he fears?

* * *

E is for excuses. All they are are excuses. The reasons Eric leaves and comes back, the reasons Jackie and Hyde break up. They are not reasons at all—they are excuses.

Fez sees them. He sees them everyday. Even with women and porn and other great things to distract, he sees what his friends aren't willing to see. He sees the fear of the future.

He doesn't share that fear. He feared leaving his home country, he feared what would happen when he got to America. And he realised one day that that particular fear did nothing. The future had to come. They couldn't stop it. Soon, they would have to face the fact that responsibilities and possibilities lay ahead of them. He feels as if one day, while he's watching them, he should just shout at Eric and Donna and Jackie and Hyde to just _talk_ about the problems that they can't avoid much longer and have sex that's passionate and real instead of the kind both couples have been having lately—dull, with an invisible, ignored barrier between them. He can't learn from that.

Really, how else is he going to get a woman if he doesn't know what to do with her?

E is for everlasting. Donna took him back, which was all he really needed, and he had another year to think about everything else. He had a year to think about jobs and colleges and work. For now, he is content to dwell on that happy feeling that settled in his stomach when Donna forgave him, when their relationship was back on. It hasn't disappeared since that day, and he's not sure he ever wants it to because it feels like their first real kiss, complete with a mix of butterflies and giddiness that made him feel three years younger and more sure than he was now.

Their love's been there for years now. Building slowly, sure at times but not so at others. Reaching towards what they both wanted. When the paths didn't cross they went separate ways, only to realise that their paths would always cross because they were just soul mates, and their enduring love was just meant to be. Always had, always would be.

He's glad for that. He doesn't what he'd do without Donna there.

E is for ecstasy. At least, he thinks it's ecstasy. Euphoria, maybe. What's the difference? He should listen to Donna more than he should stare at her boobs. They just bounce so nicely...

The past few months have been good to Kelso. Betsy's absolutely adorable, spending time with her is a blessing. He's doing well as a cop, and he's got Angie. The burn on Hyde is happiness all in itself. He's not alone, but he's not tied down. He's got a job, but he's got time on his hands. He has a home, he's got a room mate—and really, what would he do without his little buddy?—he's got a family, he's got sex. Everything seems to fall into place perfectly as the days pass by.

He's never realised life could be so sweet.


	9. M:6

Author's Note: Since it's been forever, here's a chapter. Season 6.

* * *

M is for marriage. Marriage is all Jackie ever wanted. If there was a choice between being famous and being married, she'd get married in a heartbeat. She'd prefer both, but if it was only one...

Steven makes her feel like she was flying, especially since they got back together. She looks into the future, and it hurts to think for a moment that he would not be the one that held her every night. She feels safe in his arms, hiding away from the world, forgetting everything. She doesn't worry about her mother, about getting kicked out of cheerleading, about her friends. It's just her and Steven, laying in each other's arms, basking in each other's love.

It makes her so warm and fuzzy inside that she doesn't allow herself to think that he doesn't want to marry her. Doesn't tell herself that marriage is the furthest thing from his mind. She knows she annoys him when she talks about their future, but she thinks he secretly likes it. She thinks he wants a future, that he just can't say it out loud.

She's more than happy to say it for him. After all, he loves her in a wedding dress. How much more does he need to say?

* * *

M is for mistake. Kelso thinks for a minute that his life is one big mistake. How could he get a girl pregnant? How could he be a father? A cop? Every day he screwed things up a little more. One minute he was hoping Brooke would admit it, the next he hoped she'd take it back. Hoped she would say she had sex with another guy during the time frame. Hoped he might be off scot-free.

But she's not that kind of girl—he knows that. She's not the type to lie or to sleep around. She never would have touched him if it wasn't for the alcohol.

So he tries. Tries to be a better cadet at the academy—the easier of the tasks he thinks—he fails sometimes, falls behind, but he tries. Burning the academy down set his attempts back; almost getting kicked out a reminder to do harder. He spends each day wanting to present the best version of himself to Brooke. He wants to be a part of the child's life, he decides. It was going to be hard, if his parents are to be believed. (He doesn't listen—they're not happy with him. He doesn't want them to know how hard it is for him. They've been stretched to the limit with his siblings and him. One kid can't be as bad as seven). But it might be fun. Babies were usually cute. Brooke might let him touch her again. He might even grow up.

He doesn't want to spend too much time thinking about it. It's getting harder to pretend Brooke's just chunking out. It's harder to pretend it's all an elaborate dream or burn. He couldn't be sure how he and Brooke would fare as parents. At least their baby was sure to be the cutest thing around.

That cheered him up some.

* * *

M is for magic. Fez's life is magic. Or luck. He can't decide. Coming to Wisconsin had been a dream five years ago. Now, he is a citizen. He has a home. A job. He has friends. He has a wife. A slutty one, true, one who wouldn't put out—at least not to him—but a wife nonetheless. He even starts to believe he's grown on Red.

Is is magic? It feels magical. It's a fairytale. Back in his country, he would have married a local man's daughter—and the women in his country were not that pretty—and spend the rest of his life toiling away at menial labour. Here, he feels like a prince. It's not much by American standards—it's _nothing_ by American standards—but it's more than he thought he would have when he boarded the plane three years ago. His host parents' house has an actual floor, there's always food at the Formans' home. There's pot to smoke and television to watch and girls to hit on. Back in his home country, he would be with a woman who probably couldn't care less about him. He wouldn't have TV—he wouldn't have electricity at all—and the drugs would be hard. Girls would be less welcoming than here. He might have had to skip a few meals every week.

Maybe he shouldn't be thanking magic or luck. Maybe he should just thank God Laurie was easy to buy off.

* * *

M is for minefield. Eric thinks the entire thing is ridiculous, thinks Donna is just being paranoid. Maybe she's been hitting too many circles. Maybe she's nervous. Maybe she really believes it. But he doesn't.

It's not just the sex. It's the counselling, the wedding dress, the general claim of minefields. It's silly, really, thinking that the wedding could be doomed by little things. He doesn't believe any of that. Marriage is...

What's marriage? Literally speaking, the definition of marriage is vast. What's the common thread? A union. A partnership. A legal commitment. A match. Blending. Togetherness. Is passion a part of it? He has that—his love for Donna is passionate beyond belief. They're together, they have a union, they're a match.

But he thinks of all the phrases that describe marriage. Tying the knot—for some reason, it drags up images of a noose. Wedlock—why does that sound like you'll be in a cage? Is he ready for this? Why can't he think of anything happy with marriage? Why does that dream hold sway over him as he sits on his bed? He's getting married in two days. To the girl he's loved since he was five. To the girl he somehow never lost. His future, his dream come to true.

So why does he feel so sick?

* * *

M is for maniac. Or maneater. Jackie's both, Hyde decides. He loves her—here in the silent dark, he can admit that to himself—but sometimes he wishes someone would cut her tongue out. Then he stops and laughs to himself—hell no, Jackie's tongue did awesome things, he wouldn't want it gone. How about laryngitis? How come she never got sick and lost her voice? He could work with that.

Maybe he's being heartless, but she drives him up the wall. Just like with Kelso, her expectations don't fit him. He doesn't think marriage is worth it. He doesn't think they should be talking about it at all, anyway—she's still in high school, and they only got back together a few months ago. He doesn't tell her there's things he doesn't want say out loud, things that are always going to be part of the glass wall between them. There's weapons he doesn't want to hand her. Memories he doesn't want to remember. Things he's thought that he regrets.

He envies Forman. He might call him a chick, but Forman's got courage he'll never have. Forman wears his heart on his sleeve, no matter what happens. Hyde can't do that. People couldn't be trusted. Eventually, they'd betray you. Jackie's crazy for thinking otherwise. She should know better.

Then again, maybe he should know better too.

* * *

M is for midnight. It's the only time Donna can wonder about her life. She's going to marry Eric, she has an amazing job, she has amazing friends. All that is good.

But what about the other stuff?

There is a tiny trailer on the outskirts of a tiny, going no-where town that had her name on it. Can she really live there with Eric? No room? Can she stay in this town, give up her education for good, and not regret it?

The questions float across her mind every night as she tries to fall asleep. Sleep doesn't come easy these days. At first, she tries to convince herself that she's used to having Eric holding her, but she has to be careful not to toss and turn one night when he holds her so she doesn't wake him up. She strokes his arm and thinks about the sex they're not having. She wants it, just as much as he does, but she wants to be _excited_ about marriage. She wants to walk down the aisle and look forward to something. And she had nothing to look forward to but that. She has nothing but thoughts of giving up her dreams and...

No, Eric loves her. They could make this work.


	10. M:4

Author's Note: Thought I'd update. Yeah, I know, the last one was the letter M too. Season 4. Sorry if there's any repetition.

* * *

M is for morning. Morning is a difficult time for Donna. Morning is when she must put on a mask of strength she doesn't feel. She has to pretend seeing Eric doesn't bother her. She has to pretend she's over him, that he's nothing but a friend.

She's never liked mornings all that much. The sun's too bright, and there's school to go to. The only consolation she had ever had is that she can see Eric. But now, there's no reason to get up in the morning, no reason to drag herself through another day. Not that she has a choice. School is waiting, and her friends would know the truth, so she wakes up and washes last night's tears off her face and tells herself she's better off without him and that all the heartache will fade away into nothing soon.

At least until midnight, when she can't lie to herself anymore.

* * *

M is for mean. Kelso pouts as he stares at the advertisement as he has done. Jackie's mean to try to take this from him. Downright cruel. She knew he wanted it.

There's some part of him that realises that he knows (or should know) that Jackie wants it too, but he brushes that off. She didn't get it—he did. And she would just have to accept that. Because he is not about to give up something as awesome as this because she can't deal with it. She's a Cheese Maiden at some stupid shop in the mall. He's a _model_. It makes sense that she's jealous, but if she really loves him then why is she trying to destroy the one happiness he has right now?

It takes him a while to get what's wrong with that question.

* * *

M is for music. It's Hyde's safe haven, that one place where he can just relax and think and not worry about how the government is controlling them or his dumbass friends. He doesn't have to worry about the future or the past, and he doesn't have to hear the fights between Forman and Donna or Jackie and Kelso that go on in the basement outside his room.

There's solace in music too and emotion. That's what secretly appeals to him the most. Yeah, Zeppelin rocks hard, but there's always a line in a song, or even a whole verse, that he can relate to. He has such a hard time showing his emotions to even himself—he doesn't want to feel them; they don't do anything for him—but listening to music can change all that. He can admit those feelings, if only to himself and the darkness and maybe the record player, if he's sure Fez isn't lurking around.

Maybe that's why he loves music so much, he thinks. It's everything he can't bear to say out loud.

The guitar doesn't hurt either.

* * *

M is for memory. Memories are vague, hazy and distant. There's always something connected to them—an emotion, a feeling—but it's never as strong as it once was when you look back on it.

That's how Jackie feels about her relationship with Michael. It's over then it's back on again, and recapturing doesn't seem to be as easy as she thought it was. The first few months were great, yeah, but then those stupid little things popped up. Michael flirts with Eric's cousin, fails to comfort her when she loses Snow Queen, wants to watch children's movies, want to _have _children—or be a sperm donor, same difference—and he keeps bringing up _space _for some God-only-knows reason. She's known for a long time now that he loves space and not growing up, and that he's a terrible flirt with less mental capacity for others than the nail on her pinkie, but it used to be endearing, and she doesn't know why it's not anymore.

It takes one article, one sentence of truth, to make her see that maybe he's not the one for her after all.

* * *

M is for malice. She's downright evil for coming here to the basement. Eric watches Donna sit down and he stares at her so hard his eyesight goes fuzzy.

She's torturing him, he knows. Maybe it's on purpose or maybe he's had one too many hits in his lifetime, but he knows she's being malicious. So he kicks her out, pretends seeing her leaving, never to come back (hopefully), doesn't shatter his heart.

Of course she does come back, out of vindictiveness brought on by... Well, Jackie, most likely, though he doesn't know for certain. But she's back, and that's what matters, and he's relieved, and he hates himself for it. Because frankly, he hates that he can't live without her when she seems to be doing just fine without him. She's only back here to get their mutual friends back, and then, when she does, she'll go away again, and he'll be alone and miserable...well, more so than he is now.

The words 'I'm sorry' almost form on his lips.

* * *

M is for middle. Sometimes, Fez feels like he's in the middle of everything. Maybe it's the way he spies on everyone. Or maybe it's just because he feels that his life is going on an entirely different path from his friends'. They all have their own problems, their own relationships, and so does he, and lately, he seems to be all alone.

Well, not alone. He had Big Rhonda. That's nice. She's a good girlfriend and fun to be around, and when he's with her, he doesn't worry or think. All he wonders is if he'll get into her pants before the school year is over. He doesn't know why she doesn't let him; it's not like either of them have a line of people waiting to date them.

Still, it's a nice feeling, just sitting there with her, her fingers entwined with his. There's something about just being there, no words, no expectations, no sadness, just comfort and... love. Maybe. Probably. Most likely.

The middle doesn't look so bad now.


	11. C:6

C is for candy. It's pretty much all Fez has nowadays. He has candy and a job he hates (the DMV is no fun when your ex-girlfriend works with you) and best friends (all occupied with babies, marriage, college, police academies, dating parents, etc., etc.) and a slutty wife (who's dating someone else). So really, candy is all Fez has.

It doesn't bother him. Or maybe it does. After all, his friends have lives to live and people to kiss and he has... Tootsie Rolls. Not that they aren't good. They're just not the same as sex or a relationship. He has the candy, and there's nothing to long for there. But he doesn't have what he really wants—sex (not enough sluts in Point Place... except for his always-gone wife) or a girlfriend (Kelso never helps in this respect—just look at what happened with Suzy).

On the other hand, he has his friends' lives to warn him about those things. There's a baby on the way and a wedding in the works (maybe two, if Jackie manages to break Hyde down), and frankly, he can't imagine wanting either of those at eighteen. He can't imagine trying to raise a baby with a woman who doesn't trust you (no woman trusts Fez), marrying your high school sweetheart/childhood best friend (actually, that sounds sweet, but he's already married; besides, he has no high school sweethearts unless you count Crazy Caroline, who he won't ever marry, and Big Rhonda, who he hasn't spoken to in a year), or arguing with your girlfriend about marriage (Hyde is going to have a lot of bruises on his legs at the end of that conversation).

He thinks about that as he looks down at the pack of M&Ms.

Maybe candy is the best choice after all.

* * *

C is for change. Kelso is not sure he has ever liked change. The physical stuff—the money change—_that _he likes. It's the other change, the one you feel but can't touch, that scares him.

Some changes happens slow—the destruction of his relationship with Jackie for example—and then sometimes it hits you in the face so fast you don't see it coming, like the baseball Hyde threw at him in gym class in middle school.

Brooke is one of those don't-see-coming changes. He can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. There's elements of both. It's good because he can make out with a hot chick who would otherwise never look twice at him. His parents think he'll finally grow up, and they're kind of looking forward to being grandparents. It gives him something to work towards.

But it's bad too. No. It's freaking _terrible. _He can't think straight under pressure—what's he supposed to do if he's alone with the kid and something happens and he doesn't know what to do and makes it worse? What if he loses his kid or hurts them? What if Brooke decides that he's not good enough and takes their child and won't let him see them? He'd be crushed. As much as he's not ready to be a father, he's grown used to the idea, and he's finding that he's looking forward to it.

He almost asks her one day. They are sitting on the couch at her place, her belly stretching wider by the day, and he wants to ask. But before he gets the question out, her eyes light up and she takes his hand. _Do you feel that? The baby's kicking. _She gives him a half-excited, half-worried look.

He realises that maybe she's as unsure of his involvement as he is. _I can't wait to hold the baby._

Her happy smile soothes him.

* * *

C is for comparison. Jackie shouldn't, she knows, but sometimes she can't help it. Steven is just so different from Michael, and while it's not always a bad thing, it can be annoying at times.

Steven is just so... blank. Michael's an open book—there's rarely any surprises there—but Steven... Well, maybe he's a book too, but her ex-boyfriend is a children's book, and her current boyfriend is a mystery too complex for a Nancy Drew novel.

Michael was just so willing to please her that she was able to overlook the cheating and the lies and the immaturity, whereas Steven is just so inscrutable she can't tell if she's a passing fling or the love of his life or maybe she's somewhere in between.

Or maybe she's just being unfair. Steven's never had a long term girlfriend, and she's his first, and he has to love her if he's still with her. He's only said it once—after he cheated, maybe he's not so unlike Michael after all—but she felt he was being genuine (once her anger calmed down at least). He wouldn't throw around words like that unless he meant it.

Still, she can't help but be disappointed (_angry, miserable, trodden on_) when she found out he cheated on, when he didn't immediately take her back when she wanted to take him back (stupid bleach blonde biker skanks). Does that mean he doesn't love her at all and she's just passing time to him or does that he loves her so much he's hurt at her initial refusal?

There's so many reasons to believe that, she doesn't know where to start.

* * *

C is for crazy. Crazy, because Donna feels that her life is going in that direction. She's eighteen and she's preparing to move into a tiny trailer and get married to Eric. That part's fine. Not really what she had in mind last year, but it's fine.

No, it's the sudden, unwelcome presence of one Pamela Burkhart, the alcoholic airhead slut extraordinaire, that has Donna sure her life is turning upside down before her very eyes.

She can't say she hated Jackie's mother at first. At first, she seemed like she genuinely desired to fix her broken relationship with her daughter. Maybe that is all she wanted at the beginning. But now Pam has fixated her attention on Bob, and Donna doesn't like that one bit.

It's confusing, because she's really never had a problem with her father's girlfriends (okay, it was only Joanne) before. Having Pam around part of the time is worse than having Jackie around all the time. At least Jackie has some good qualities and she's been a good friend, but Donna's not sure she can say the same for her mother. She can't find one redeeming quality about the woman. She's not nice or charitable or funny. All Pam's good qualities are on the outside, and Donna can't understand why her father can't see that.

Of course, he doesn't listen to her. She's relegated back to 'the daughter,' the one who should just listen to her father. Bob only ever does that when he really wants something she doesn't approve of, and it's never offended her more than it did when he told her Pam was around to stay. She knows that's false, knows he'll just be heartbroken in the end.

But she can't care anymore. If her father wants to be crazy and fall in love with Pam, let him. Donna won't be around to pick up the pieces again.

* * *

C is for candid. Candid is something Hyde knows he can never be, because it involves wearing his heart on his sleeve, and he just can't do that.

But that doesn't mean that he doesn't want to be candid. He does, sometimes at least, because he knows that will make Jackie happy, and even if it's hard for him to say he loves her, he knows he does because there's no other reason he would put up with her shrill demands. He knows, because no one else makes him feel so at peace—truly at peace, not that pretend-peace he does so well—just by sitting there with him. There's comfort in his friends, but there's total peace in her, even if she does talk all the time. (Okay, maybe it's more peaceful at night when she's asleep, but it's still peaceful during the day).

So he wants to say he loves her and that if she'll just shut up about marriage for a while, maybe he'll get used to the idea that someone actually loves him and wants him, and they can get married. Because frankly, he's not sure that, no matter how irritating her voice is, he can go a day without hearing it.

It unnerves him when he finds he's almost happy—_almost—_to see her in a wedding dress. He thought he wasn't ready.

* * *

C is for consequence. Eric knows that every action as a consequence. He knows it, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because all the choices he's ever made have ended well. No matter what, everything rights itself when he makes a mistake.

But somehow, he's not so sure that this will. The nightmare has him on edge. Days away from his marriage to Donna—who he loves more than anything, truly—and he wants to run. Something is telling him that the consequences for this choice will not be good. Something tells him that running is actually the best choice, the one that will make both of them happier in the long run.

It hurts to think that though. He'll be disappointing her. He'll be running away like a coward. (Well, he's never been tough, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised). He'll be turning his back on everything he's dreamed of since the moment he kissed her.

But it's for the best. He knows that deep down. It's for the best, because they're still too young, too unsure, too... Bottom line is they're not ready. He knows it, and he's sure she does too. They still have too much to do and see and they have to _live_...

So he leaves. He breaks both their hearts one more time. It's the only way for them to get their happy ending. A little bit of misery never killed anyone. Besides, he's only planning on being gone a couple of days. Just until the day after the wedding. Then he'll come back and apologise and try to make things right again. Hopefully, she'll see it his way. Hopefully, she'll see it was for the best.

Still, walking away is the worst choice he's ever made.

* * *

AN: I hope I didn't make Donna sound too heartless. She's only mad at Bob, and she'll forgive him eventually. And Jackie's is really earlier in the sixth season... Anyway, hope you enjoyed and feel free to drop a line.


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